


Cold Days and Sandy Toes

by Rocketeeranonymous



Category: Free!
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Nanase Haruka, Character Study, FWP, Fluff, M/M, Relationship Study, Straight up fluff yo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 07:05:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5082301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocketeeranonymous/pseuds/Rocketeeranonymous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even though Haru doesn't say much, he thinks a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Days and Sandy Toes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [debubblizer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/debubblizer/gifts).



  _“We fell in lo-ove, right by the ocean.”_ Makoto begins to sing, but stops to laugh when he sees Haru’s annoyed pout. “Just kidding.”

   They’re walking along the shoreline they had known since they were kids, Makoto still not being entirely comfortable with going deeper than calf-high into the waves. Haru, who practically lives to feel the water embrace him, wrap around him with tender arms, tries to ignore the temptation of the waves as he holds Makoto’s hands.

   Thankfully, it’s not that hard.

   “So how’s practice going?” Makoto asks after a peaceful lull in their conversation. Several minutes spent completely silent, focused on nothing in particular and simply basking in each other’s presence. Haru doesn’t verbalize it often, but never forgets how lucky he is to have someone like his boyfriend. Someone who doesn’t get mad when he’s silent, who can let subjects peter out and pick up topics as easily as change that had slipped through his pockets. Someone who gets that sometimes talking is too much, but that doesn’t mean Haru always wants to be alone.

   “It’s alright.” Haru grunts noncommittally, not wanting to talk about how he’s expected to swim all four strokes now (plus some weird archaic method his coach calls the _‘float stroke’_. It’s bizarre and it makes Haru question life as a whole). “How’s your training going?”

   “It’s going great!” Makoto chirps, his eyes instantly brightening. “Well, the technicalities are pretty specific, but from the way it’s looking I’ll have my coaching certification in a few months.”

   Haru’s features soften, looking at the gentle excitement blossoming over his boyfriend’s face. That kind of happiness is contagious, addictive, and a small smile wisps across his own lips in response. “That’s great. You deserve it, Makoto.”

   Makoto chuckles lightly and blushes in response, turning his head away in embarrassment. For a few moments they just focus on the sand between their toes, warm and soft against the steel-cold winter wind biting at their skin. The sunlight glimmering across the exasperated ocean, the sighs of the earth as the environment around them continuously flows into the edge of the world.

   “Our anniversary is soon,” Makoto begins offhandedly. Haru nods; he doesn’t see the significance in such things, doubts he ever will. What’s the point in waiting to show how much you love someone until a specific day that only happens once a year? He could hold hands through the park and get dinner or burn cupcakes with Makoto the other 364 days and still never get tired of that man.

   It’s not like they get to see each other often enough to ever get tired of one another. With Haru bouncing across training facilities and pools in places that are worlds apart and Makoto in a school out of town to properly learn to be an official coach and swim instructor, their schedules are as irreconcilable as night and day. But it’s what they’ve resigned themselves to, and they aren’t going to stop being who they are and chasing their dreams for each other. It was the first thing they agreed on once they officially started dating, and has held true ever since. Neither of them could stand a relationship where they made the one they cared about throw everything away to serve the other; Haru just wants Makoto to love himself as much as he loved the other, and Makoto feels the same about Haru.

   “Do you want to do something that day?” He asks anyways, because he loves to make Makoto smile. Plus, he’s the most hopeless romantic this side of Paris, so you _know_ he’s got something planned.

   “Depends. Will you be in town for that time?” He asks nonchalantly. Haru isn’t fooled; he knows the trepidation and eagerness that belies the other’s calm smile. Knows how electric shocks of hope and excitement are dancing sporadically underneath that pillow-soft, downy expression, praying with all their might that the two will have more time together.

   Haru doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t know. Makoto notices this, understands. His shoulders drop the slightest bit, by fractions of a centimeter, but the action is still enough to break Haru’s heart.

   “I’ll try.” He offers, doing his best to raise the other up again. It’s a weak promise, but for the few precious moments they spend together, for the days and weeks and months they spend apart, it means that he hasn’t stopped caring.

   “I know you will.” Makoto laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t do anything crazy, though. Being one of the world’s most promising rising swim superstars isn’t exactly a walk in the park. You don’t need tabloids blowing up at you for missing 24 hours of practice again.”

   Yes, sure, in the world of international sports he’s the name on everyone’s lips, but not for those reasons. His infamy arises more from the fact that many of his earlier race attempts from when he first went pro were thwarted by homophobic officiating officials, ethic/moral committees, people who just generally wanted to stir up controversy. And since Haru, being the stubborn child with seaweed for brains that he is, he outright refused at all of his press conferences to cease either swimming or publicly dating Makoto in what can only be regarded as the most masterful example of semi-silent sass to be recorded and broadcast the world over. One news channel on some country’s West Coast made a chart demonstrating just how tactless he was.

   It’s not even that Haru’s gay; at least, he doesn’t think so. He’s not attracted to anyone in particular.  Things like kissing usually send shivers down his spine, and holding hands is usually as far as he's willing to take it. But he loves Makoto in a way that he doesn’t love anyone else, so of course he’s going to be with him.

   “You’re thinking too hard about it again, aren’t you?” Makoto laughs, causing Haru to stop glaring at his feet and look at the other.

   Of course, Makoto has been nothing but encouraging. Against all criticisms and praise he’s the single fortress of solidarity and continuity in Haru’s eye. Never letting them break up over what other people thought, guiding him through the negativity and conflict, Tachibana Makoto is the true hero of the town.

   “Let’s get something to eat,” Haru suggests, pointing to a beach cafe, the only one open during the off-season.

   “Are you sure that won’t interfere with your diet? Isn’t your coach really hard about that?” Makoto fusses, his mother-hen tendencies flaunting their true colors. A glare from Haru, who eats what he wants and doesn’t listen to what anyone else says _thank you very much,_ makes him shake his head but follow the other regardless.

   Haru got a serving of saury while Makoto only asked for a hot cocoa and they shared the two as they walked back to Haru’s house, alternating between sips and bites. They passed familiar faces, people they had known their whole lives, slipping back into their past incarnations, their past selves as smoothly as if they were walking easily through the pages of time itself.

   “Hey, you go guys!” A young man called out, as his girlfriend waved. "Bring back the gold, Nanase-kun!" Haru remembers them as some neighbors that stop by every so often, and some of the first people that said they would support the two in their endeavors.

   Support, that word makes something inside him glow. His veins fill with warmth, his heart begins pumping sweet pink and thick gold that he almost wants to share with everyone he meets. It’s unique, exciting, but also overwhelming and slightly unnerving to the person that he is right now. Don’t get him wrong, he’s glad to help anyone find their own freedom, but something about having people look up to him for that makes him uncomfortable. Because, well, he’s no hero. He’s not great or noble, selflessly facing those demons alone. He’s just _Haru_. To him, it just doesn’t make sense to live without Makoto, so the way his closest person makes him feel is what he calls “love.”

   Yet he thinks that he’s nearly ready to make a change for the better. That feeling is what makes him want to try being a hero, too. How could he not, if he’s always right next to one, can always witness firsthand how wonderful and dazzling such a person is.

   “We still need to go say hi to the new Iwatobi swim team.” Makoto reminds him, gazing off towards the sky for a peaceful moment. “Why don’t we head over there right now? I’m sure it will really surprise them.”

   Haru nods, and they begin towards the school.

   Naturally the others are ecstatic to see them: Nagisa starts crying immediately and tackles them with a hug straight into the pool, and Rei follows afterwards after realizing that there’s no such thing as too much affection on the Iwatobi Swim Team. All the new recruits look ready to pee their pants with excitement, receiving training from an ex-regionally ranked backstroker and a current professional freestyler.

   The chlorinated water splashes up Makoto’s nose and makes him sneeze in a ridiculous manner. Nagisa laughs loudly enough to be heard from the school rooftop, and Rei begins to chuckle along with him. Haru pouts when a first-year asks him if he could demonstrate the most efficient depth you should flipturn to during an endurance race and doesn’t understand what he means when he says, “Just do what the water tells you.”

   Although there’s water the world over, it will never be the same as the rivers and lakes that you’re used to. Nothing will ever compare to the way that the sky looks when you find out how far you can go using your own arms and legs. Haru catches Makoto’s eye and smiles dreamily, the way that he does when he feels truly free. And he has the greatest person in the world to share it with.

   Despite the conferences, the cameras flashing and paparazzi screaming, the airports at three am and burgers and fries straight after, the name dancing across worldwide mouths that will never speak their tongue, the two don’t have an international love. They never will.

   There love exists in moments like this, reaching towards the sky and their futures like a backstroker racing towards the finish line. Charging forwards recklessly like a dolphin crashing through the surf, laughing all the while. Glancing towards one another and realizing how they’re so much happier that the other one is with them.

**Author's Note:**

> Any constructive criticism appreciated!  
> What are words writing is hard  
> Happy birthday, bubbz!!! You're really old now ew


End file.
